


in your arms tonight

by tiredhealer



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: First Time, Other, Porn with Feelings, aster is one long anxiety attack, jacob is the sexiest man alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredhealer/pseuds/tiredhealer
Summary: Aster is on a job. They don't get distracted from hunting targets, not by anyone or anything.Until Jacob, that is.(Or, Jacob and Aster meet, and go to bed, for the first time)
Relationships: Aster Bellamy/Jacob Burrows
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	in your arms tonight

Aster doesn’t belong here.

They could blend into the crowds of the Waning Swan tavern, if they wanted to. Wear a disguise, use magic to coat themself in a different skin or make themself entirely invisible. But instead, they let themself sit as a Bellamy, gilded in gold and glittering fabric, their ears adorned in jewels, their slender frame shining with the golden stars stitched into their gown.

This standing out has a purpose. Sometimes it is better to hide and sometimes it is better to sit in plain sight. As a Bellamy, they are recognisable enough to the right people. To others they will simply seem rich, a target to be robbed perhaps, but to Larn Vasken they are a threat. And a threat will make the orcish banker nervous. And nerves will make him foolish.

First comes foolish. Second comes dead. 

So Aster sits and they sip their wine - it’s bitter, but what can they expect from so cheap a vintage? - and they watch. And Larn keeps glancing in their direction, then hunches further over his own table. If Aster were the sort, they might smile. 

But they aren’t. And so they don’t.

Around them, the tavern is a lively den of music and revelry. A group of musicians clatter together in the corner and drunken party goers stumble between tables.

There’s one who keeps looking at them. A human, with dark skin and thick loc'd hair pulled up in a bun. He’s short and stocky, with a rounded stomach that presses against the colourful shirt he’s wearing. He has a smile for everyone, and they’ve noticed him turning it on them, but they don’t respond. Every time he looks at them, they make sure they’re looking away.

Aster isn’t sure why. Usually they would just stare back until he got uncomfortable. But not tonight. 

It doesn’t stop him though. And eventually, he’s next to their table, resting a hand against the old worn wood. 

‘Hi,’ he says. His smile is big. ‘I’m Jacob.’

‘Good for you.’

His smile doesn’t falter. In fact, it actually grows as he gives a low, hearty laugh. When he laughs he throws his entire self into it and his chest shakes. Aster has never seen anyone laugh like it. Not at them, at least. 

‘That’s not bad,’ he says. ‘You’re funny.’

Are they? Aster has been called a lot of things, but funny - at least in the sense of having humour - is not one of them. 

They frown and look away, back down at their wine. 

‘Can I buy you a drink?’

Aster taps the edge of the glass, the grimy glassware still half full. ‘I have a drink,’ they add, in case he didn’t catch it. 

He laughs again. ‘Okay, okay, point taken. Have a good night.’

He leaves them alone at that. They don’t mean to watch him go, but they do, and he turns as he does and sees them seeing him and winks, just once. 

Aster’s cheeks start to burn. They turn away and sip their wine, all but choking on the cloying sweetness of it. What’s the matter with them? He’s handsome, fine, they have eyes, they can acknowledge that. But he’s a stranger in a dank little bar and they don’t know him, so he shouldn’t be able to have that effect on them.

And besides, they have a job to do. They can picture the look on Soleli’s face if she knew they weren’t watching the target because they were gawking at a stranger instead. 

Though maybe it’s good they talked to him. It gives them a layer of cover to the other patrons at least. Or maybe it will make other patrons more likely to speak to them if they see him doing that.

Aster shakes their head. It doesn’t  _ matter.  _ What matters is keeping their eyes on Larn, because once he leaves it will be time to start making preparations for the next stage of the evening. 

Beneath their gown they’re wearing a catsuit of dark blue, the stitching and fabric thick to provide a layer of protection. The catsuit is for their work as Vega, a name as known as the Bellamys, though for very different reasons. They don’t doubt the hush a mention of Vega would bring over this place. The Osmera boogeyman, the assassin that haunts the streets. 

And they’re sitting right here, amongst them, with nobody the wiser. Except, perhaps, for Larn. He doesn’t suspect them of being Vega - because why would he? They’re a Bellamy, a princette. But he knows something is hounding him.

Perhaps if he considered sometimes hiding in plain sight is the best way he might have a better chance of staying alive.

Aster smiles a cold and bitter grin as they raise their glass and take a long sip. Sometimes, it’s almost too easy. 

Across the room, music starts. Aster gives the new band that has taken the stage half a glance before doing a double take. It’s him: Jacob. Holding a lyre and standing at the front of the stage with a few bandmates behind him.

They can’t stop looking as his fingers start to dance over the strings. As his voice begins to croon and hum, as the low rumble of it rises up into a song. He has a beautiful voice. Deep and rich, like sinking into the warmth of a freshly drawn bath.

And he looks beautiful too, the way his fingers move to coax soft notes from the lute, the way his eyes close as he sinks into the rhythm of the song. Aster can’t stop staring. They watch him, oblivious to all else, their lips slightly parted as they listen to him.

When he finishes, his eyes open. He catches their stare. 

This time, Aster doesn’t break it. They’re not sure they could if they tried. 

Jacob plays a few more songs and Aster keeps watching, Larn all but forgotten. Only when the music ends do they snap their head over, to see Larn still huddled in the corner, and their grip on their glass relaxes. 

They keep watching as Jacob packs up his lute, as he steps away from the stage, as he’s swallowed by a crowd. People gather round him laughing and talking and offering him drinks. Jacob seems to soak it all in. It’s surreal to Aster, the mere idea of being swarmed like that makes their skin itch. But he’s enjoying it. He’s laughing and smiling, hugging people, sharing their drinks.

Aster turns away. He’s a stranger in a bar, what does it matter how he has his fun?

They sip their wine hard enough the glass clinks against their teeth. 

The glass is empty. 

‘Hey,’ a familiar voice calls after a short time. ‘You finished your drink.’

They look up at Jacob, holding a beer in a flagon, leaning against the nearest table. He’s cheeks are darker, flushed with warmth. Aster stares at the little bit of alcohol they can see clinging to the edges of his facial hair. 

An absurd thought: they want to wipe it away with their fingers. 

Aster can feel themself turning red.

‘I have,’ they say. ‘So I should leave.’

‘You  _ could _ leave,’ Jacob agrees. ‘Or I could buy you another drink and then you’d have an excuse to stay, hm?’

They should really leave. Why aren’t they leaving? 

‘Okay,’ they say and they’re not sure why. 

He smiles, and the warmth that unspools in their chest answers that uncertainty. Jacob sits down opposite them, waving a hand to flag down a waiter. 

‘Another wine?’ he asks. 

‘Sure.’

Once ordered, Jacob looks back at them. He bites his lip a little when he smiles and the gesture sends something warm and shivering skittering through them. 

‘So, if I get you a drink can I also get your name?’

They debate that. How much to tell? Should they tell the truth at all? It would be easy, simple, practically second nature to lie. But something in them doesn’t  _ want  _ to lie to him, not about their name at least. They want him to know them. 

Gods, he’s a stranger, this really is ridiculous. 

Still, they answer, ‘Aster.’

‘Aster,’ Jacob says their name slowly, like he’s tasting it on his tongue, like he’s considering each note of it. They’ve never heard anyone say their name how he says it. ‘That’s a beautiful name.’

People have complimented their name at parties and formal events a dozen times over. But Jacob says it like it’s true, like he means it, and they feel their cheeks turning red. ‘Thank you.’ 

He smiles, and when he does it crinkles the skin around his eyes. ‘So what are you doing here all by yourself?’

They shrug. ‘I like being on my own.’

‘I like it sometimes,’ he says. ‘Not in a place like this though.’

Aster follows his gaze to the crowd of people stumbling around each other, laughing and shouting and passing drinks between them. It’s a world away from the quiet of the Bellamy Castle. It reminds them of their life before, a life that feels as if it happened to someone else. At least, most of the time. 

‘It is a little boisterous,’ Aster concedes. ‘You seem right at home here though.’

Jacob gives them a smile that makes something treacherous flutter in their chest. ‘I’m no stranger to a party, what can I say.’

The server arrives back with their drinks and Jacob thanks them, tells them to put it on his tab, then holds his beer up towards them. ‘Cheers.’

The glass is cold beneath their warm fingers. They hope he can’t see the tremble in their grip as they tip their glass against his, ‘Cheers.’

They should leave, after that drink. Thank him and wish him well, maybe offer a handshake or a hug or...Something. And then leave, go home, plan their next step now they’ve sent Larn skittering. 

But by the time the drinks are done he’s told them he’s a singer, that he lives in a little townhouse in Osmera, that he’s not a morning person but he wishes he was. And they’re telling him they have cats, lots of cats, and they like to read and they...Work in politics. 

And they’re not leaving.

A new band is playing on the stage now, filling the room with a low, lilting tune. Jacob asks them to dance. Everything practical in them says they need to leave. 

The part of them that is not practical at all, a treacherous part that is caught up in his smile and the way he looks when he laughs and the fact that when they speak he leans closer to hear what they’re saying over the music. When he does that, they can feel the heat coming off of him, and it makes their breathing shake. 

‘I’m not a very good dancer,’ they say. 

‘That’s okay. Just don’t step on my toes too much, hm?’

They laugh at that. It’s a surprised, startled sound, one that almost embarrasses them. Except Jacob smiles, like he’s pleased, like he  _ enjoys  _ their laugh. 

‘I’ll try.’

He takes their hand. His skin is warm and soft against their palm and Aster’s breath hitches in their throat. 

Jacob leads them across the room to where crowds of people are dancing together. The floor is sticky beneath their heels. Aster can feel their pulse thudding in their ears. 

He keeps hold of their one hand and puts the other on their waist. Aster fumbles at the feeling of him so close as he pulls them in, as the warmth that radiates from him sinks into them. They put their hand on his shoulder, feeling the softness of him through the thin fabric of his shirt. They move together like that, swaying in small circles. It isn’t really dancing, per say, just a quiet sort of shuffle. But they’re close, their chests pressed together, their breaths mingling. 

Aster can’t stop staring at him. His eyes are dark, only a shade lighter than the rich darkness of his skin, the deep chestnut of his eyes flecked with hints of amber. His cheeks are soft and full, lovely and plump, his beard just long enough the hairs can curl. His lips are plump and wet from the drink.

When he leans up, they know exactly what he intends to do. They welcome it. They lean down to meet him. 

The kiss is soft. Impossibly so, barely more than a hint of their mouths together. He’s testing them, they realise. Asking if it is alright. 

It’s more than alright. 

Aster presses towards him, letting their lips slide over his. Jacob hums against their mouth and his hand on their waist gives a squeeze before he’s kissing them properly. He kisses with a devastating sweetness, his mouth moving over theirs, their lips bumping and rubbing together. When Jacob flicks his tongue against their lower lip they make a sound that the music thankfully swallows. But Jacob is close enough to hear, and he gives a quiet moan in turn as their lips part and their tongues meet. 

When they part, their lips feel full and their head is dizzy in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol. 

Jacob smiles up at them. His lips are wetter than they were before.

Aster smiles back. And they know they won’t be leaving him any time soon.

The night continues like that. They share drinks, they dance, they kiss and fold their bodies together. At one point, as they’re dancing, Jacob slides his hand down to squeeze their ass and Aster gasps. They might have scolded him for that, but the way he looked at them made it suddenly, impossibly good. 

Larn is gone. Aster has no idea when he left. There’s a moment of panic about that - a moment where they think  _ ah fuck, Soleli.  _ But then Jacob is touching them, laughing with them, telling them how beautiful their hair is, and suddenly none of it matters. They’ll deal with it later.

‘Hey,’ Jacob says as they step away from the dance floors. ‘You wanna get out of here?’

Aster pauses. ‘I...thought we were having a nice time.’

‘Oh! No, I am - I meant,’ he pauses, leans up towards them, and his breath is a hot flush against their ear. ‘Do you want to come home with me?’

‘Do I...Oh, you’re asking me to have sex with you.’

That bright smile falters, just once, and then he nods. ‘I am. If you want to.’

Their ears are ringing, their heart thumping loud in their head. He wants to take them home and have sex with them. They want to go. They want his mouth on their throat, his hands under their gown, they want to see what that belly looks like without a shirt. 

They don’t do this. They’re a Princette, an assassin, a wanted criminal depending on who you ask. They’re not someone who has one night flings with strangers.

But why aren’t they? Who’s to say they can’t be a Princette that has a fling, an assassin that finds comfort in a stranger’s bed, a secretive fugitive with a lover. 

‘It’s okay if you don’t want to,’ Jacob says. He starts to step away from them. ‘It was a nice night anyway.’

Their hands snap out and they grab him by the wrist. Jacob’s eyes widen in surprise. 

‘I want to,’ Aster says. 

‘You sure?’

Are they? 

‘Yes.’ 

Aster moves their hands from his wrists downwards so they’re holding his, so their fingers are intertwined. He smiles at them then, and uses their tangled hands to pull them in for another kiss. 

They could get lost in his kisses. And they suppose they technically have already, having let Larn get out without them even noticing. 

‘Let’s go then.’

He leads them out of the tavern and away from that stretch of the city. Together, they all but run through narrow side-streets and stumble along passages that are deserted in the dark night air. This is Vega’s domain, not Aster’s and they might have lost their nerve and retreated home were it not for the way Jacob’s hand feels in theirs. 

Eventually, they reach a little townhouse, tucked between two others, and Jacob slips a key from his pocket. The front door is painted yellow, and there are plant pots gathered beneath the window. 

‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ he says as he clicks the key into the lock. The house inside is dark until Jacob starts to fumble for the candles on the table. 

Aster flicks their wrist, lets their magic flare through them, and the candles light up. 

‘Ah!’ Jacob squeaks, and Aster doesn’t try to hide their delighted smile. 

‘So you’re a mage,’ he says. 

‘A wizard, technically. But yes.’ Or at least, a wizard is what they used to be before Soleli. It’s what they tell people they are, and nobody has ever pressed for more. 

‘Where did you learn?’

‘What?’

Jacob’s moving around the room, using the lit candle to spread the warm orange glow to others. He looks over his shoulder at them as they close the front door and he smiles. ‘Did you go to a school or did your family teach you?’

‘Oh,’ Aster fumbles desperately for an answer, something caught partly between a truth and a lie. ‘Well, I started off being self taught. I used to borrow books from the library.’

Jacob looks at them with a small smile and shakes his head, ‘That’s amazing! I can’t imagine teaching myself something like that.’

‘Well, you play an instrument. That’s like magic,’ they wince at that. It sounds cliche. ‘I mean, it’s teaching yourself to perform a skill. It’s not that different.’

‘Aster, is this you telling me you think I’m magic?’

They’re red, they can feel it. They clear their throat and look away, their hands fumbling together as they stand by the front door. They’re starting to lose their steam from the bar. Being in his home is making them realise what exactly it is they’re doing - or about to do.

Slowly, Jacob approaches them. He rests his hands on the nervous motion of their hands and slides his own up until he’s holding them very gently by the elbow. ‘You alright?’

‘Yes! Yes. I just. I - I haven’t done this, before.’

Jacob squeezes their arms in his soft hands. ‘Had a one night stand?’

Aster only stares at him and waits until realisation slowly dawns. 

‘Oh!’ 

‘Oh,’ they agree. Should they be telling him this? On the one hand it probably makes them look naïve and off-putting. But, well, it’s probably going to be obvious they haven’t done this before when he starts taking off his clothes anyway. 

‘Well,’ Jacob says slowly. He reaches up and cups the side of their face in his hands. ‘Are you sure you want to do this? No hard feelings, if not. I had a really nice night anyway.’ 

‘I want to!’ And they do, even if they’re nervous. They’re always nervous, their entire life has been one long experience of feeling like an exposed nerve. ‘I just. Thought you should know  _ why  _ I’m nervous. It isn’t you. Except it is - I mean, it’s you being. I like you. You’re handsome. I want this to be. Good?’

‘Good,’ Jacob echoes with a nod. ‘I think good can be a start.’

He kisses them. Softly, at first, but not for long as Aster sighs against his lips, as they lean into the warmth of him. Their lips part, their tongues slide together, and Jacob’s hands are moving along the lines of their back until he can grab their ass that he squeezes and kneads between his fingers. Aster moans, the sound loud in the quiet of the room.

‘Fuck, you’re gorgeous,’ he whispers. 

Aster’s cheeks are so warm, the heat of their blush spreading up to their ears. ‘You are too.’

They stumble towards the bedroom together. When the door is shut Jacob presses them against it and mouths his way along their cheek and down over their throat. He stops to suck at the thud of their pulse and Aster writhes, tilting their head to give his mouth more room. 

It’s as his hands move over the fastenings of their gown that they come back to themself with a jolt. The catsuit. 

It’ll be a hard job to explain that. And what will they tell him? The catsuit is distinctive too, what if something in his memory connects the dots? They can’t let him see it. 

‘Do you have a bathroom?’ they blurt suddenly. 

Jacob’s still busy kissing and sucking at their throat. He doesn’t register their question at first, until Aster, awkwardly, repeats it. 

‘Do I have a - oh! Sure.’

‘Sorry, not to ah. Kill the mood. I just. The wine, you know?’

Jacob nods. ‘Sure, it’s just through there.’

Aster gives him another kiss and all but runs into the bathroom. Once there, they click the lock into place and struggle out of their gown to let it pool around their feet. Aster pulls the catsuit off quicker than they ever have before. 

But then, what to do with it? They can’t go back out into the bedroom with it, then Jacob will want to know what it is. 

They have to hide it. 

Aster opens the cabinet beneath the sink and bundles the suit inside. In the process they knock a few soaps and glass jars of cream hair care products around and wince at the fact Jacob can probably hear that, can’t he? 

Sure enough, a second later there comes a knock at the door. ‘Aster?’

‘I’m coming!’ they shut the cabinet and make sure it isn’t about to spill back open. Once they’re sure that’s safe, they go to the door. 

Jacob leans against the wall beside it. He’s lit the candles in the bedroom and the orange flames cast him in a soft and radiant glow. The light plays off his high cheekbones, dances along the black flush of his cheeks. He’s like something from a dream.

But he’s real, and he’s here, and he’s reaching for them. Aster leans into his touch, stooping to place a kiss against his forehead. His arms wind around their waist and pull them in as Jacob rises on his tip-toes to kiss their lips once, then twice, then a third time.

‘You okay?’ he asks. 

‘Yeah,’ they answer, and they mean it. 

‘If you’re not - if this is too much, we can just kiss. Make out. I like kissing you, Aster.’

It doesn’t take much to make them blush where Jacob’s concerned, they’re learning this very quickly. ‘Ah, I like. Kissing you too. But no, I want…More.’

His breath is hot against their lips as he murmurs, ‘Do you want me to fuck you, Aster?’

Gods, but that goes right to their cock. They shiver and their words are stolen on a gasp, and all they can do is nod. 

He kisses them again and they stagger together towards the bed. Jacob’s hands are everywhere, sliding up their back and squeezing their hips and tangling in their hair. Aster feels overwhelmed but in the best way: they don’t know what to do with their hands.

Once they’re both on the bed, they decide where to put them. They unbutton Jacob’s shirt with trembling fingers and reveal his torso button by button. His stomach is large and soft, with thick rolls at the side, his chest heavy and nipples dark. He has a fine dusting of hair over his chest and along his stomach and Aster rubs their hands over the softness of him, watching the way his body moves, feeling the tickle of his body hair beneath their palms. 

‘You’re, ah, really. Good looking,’ Aster says quietly.

Beneath their touch, Jacob trembles, his breathing turning unsteady. They can see the imprint of his cock through his pants, already half-hard. Fuck, he’s like that because of them. Because of their kisses and their body and their touch. It’s dizzying. It’s wonderful.

‘You think so, babe?’ he says, head tilted back, a small smile of bliss on his face as Aster rubs and kneads at his stomach and chest. 

Aster nods and in a moment of daring they lean in and kiss one of his nipples, sucking the peaked nub between their lips to rub their tongue over it. Jacob moans, low and lovely, and Aster’s cock throbs hard between their thighs. 

His moan encourages them and Aster pushes him backwards so he’s laying flat on the bed, then they continue sucking and licking at his nipple. He tangles his fingers between strands of their hair and holds them there loosely, then gives it just one loose tug. That makes Aster gasp, a whine slipping out against his skin. 

Jacob uses his free hand to tug at their shoulder, trying to encourage them up towards him. Aster goes willingly and they sink into another deep, open mouthed kiss. His mouth is wet and warm against theirs as his tongue flicks into their mouth, as he sucks at their lower lip and bites on it ever so gently. 

‘So you’ve seen me,’ he whispers against their mouth. ‘Can I see you?’

Aster nods. 

Jacob begins to unwind the fastenings on their gown. As it loosens they shrug out of it, baring their shoulders, their collarbone, their chest, their stomach. It pools around their waist and Jacob leaves it there for now, so they’re as bare as he is. He places kisses against their throat, down over the jut of their collarbone where he sucks hard enough Aster moans and knows he’s going to leave a mark. They’ll have to cover up back at the castle tomorrow. 

They’re like polar opposites: Aster is thin where he is fat, their skin pale where his is dark. The former makes them a little self conscious, they know how thin they are, how sharp their edges can be. Not like him, who’s soft and round, who has inches of tempting fat on his back they can sink their fingers into. 

What if he doesn’t like them? What if he thinks they’re too gaunt? 

‘You have so many freckles,’ Jacob says as he kisses back up, tracing patterns between their freckles with his tongue. ‘I could kiss them for hours.’

The thought makes them writhe in his arms, the idea that they could stay here with him for days upon days just kissing and touching. ‘You could do that later.’ 

‘Oh?’ they can feel his smirk against their skin. ‘Why, is there something you wanted me to do now?’

He’s on top of them, sprawled between their thighs, and Aster takes their chance to thrust their hips up towards his. The sudden friction of their cocks rubbing together, even through layers of cloth, makes them both gasp. 

‘That’s what I want,’ Aster whispers, and they do it again. This time they’re prepared for the feeling but still, it leaves them breathless, leaves them gasping. 

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to be rude and leave you wanting.’ Jacob smiles. He’s gorgeous above them, the broad swell of his shoulders, the soft curls of his hair. Aster can’t resist and they pull him in for another kiss. 

They’re kissing as he grinds down onto them, as he thrusts their hips together until their cock is hard and aching, feeling practically trapped within their underwear.

Jacob pulls back and kneels up between their thighs. He slides their belt loose and undoes the fastening of his pants. And Aster watches as he pushes the fabric of his trousers and underwear down over his thighs. 

His cock is huge. Thick and long, the tip glistening with pre-cum, the head flush and wet. Aster stares at it, at how wide it is, and imagines how it’s going to feel every inch of that inside them. 

Jacob watches them watch him with a grin on his face. He takes his cock in his hand and slides his hand from base to tip, spreading the wet down the length of his shaft so it glistens. 

‘You’re big,’ Aster says, matter of factly. Their mouth might be watering a little. 

‘I am,’ he agrees. ‘We don’t - I mean, if it’s your first time you don’t have to take the whole thing.’

Aster laughs a little. They can’t help it. ‘No, I want it all.’

Jacob grins at them. ‘Yeah babe?’

They prop themself up on their elbow and reach out with one hand to wrap trembling fingers around his cock. Jacob moans faintly, shivering around their touch, his hips rocking forwards to thrust his cock into their hand. His cock is warm beneath their fingers, the skin flushed and slick. Aster curls their fingers in a loose circle and pumps up and down the length of him. 

Above them, Jacob shudders. His moan is low and devastating. Aster wants to bottle it and keep it forever. 

They move their hand faster, pumping him in shallow motions, watching the way it makes his thighs tremble. When he thrusts his hips to meet their touch it makes his stomach bounce. 

Gods, he’s the most beautiful man - the most beautiful anyone they’ve ever seen. 

‘Okay, okay, hold up babe,’ he says, breathless and smiling. ‘I think it’s your turn.’

‘But I’m not done with you yet.’ They squeeze his cock for emphasis. 

Jacob shakes and gasps and the smile on his face is wonderful. His cheeks dimple when he smiles. ‘If you want me to last babe, you gotta let me go.’

Aster hums in consideration. They  _ do  _ want him to fuck them; the thought of all that inside them makes their own cock strain with want. So, fine, they let him go. 

Jacob takes the fabric of their gown and slips it off them the rest of the way. A sweep of cold goes over them as they’re exposed to the room but Jacob is there immediately to cover them with the heat of his body. He kisses along the sharp edge of their knee and down along their thigh. As he gets closer to their crotch Aster’s heart beats loud in their ears. 

He stops at the edge of their lace underwear and looks up at them. They look back at the mischievous smirk on his face before his lips part and his tongue drags over their cock through the lace. The wet and heat of his mouth on them through the thin layer makes Aster suck in a breath through their teeth and they clench the bedding hard beneath their fists. 

They’ve thought about what this would feel like before, on nights when they’ve used their own hands on themself to bring themself pleasure. But his mouth is nothing like it, is leagues above they could ever have dreamed; hot and blissful and when he uses his tongue on them it sends a jolt of pleasure white hot through them. He mouths over the head of their cock, sucking the lace into their mouth to get them slick with it. He teases them like that for so long they feel they could cum from that alone, could fall apart to the sensation of his mouth sliding over their leaking head. 

Jacob pulls back, urges them to lift their hips so he can slide their underwear down and away. He moves away from them briefly, even as they protest weakly and reach for him. 

‘Don’t worry, not going far baby,’ he says and kisses them. His mouth tastes of their own pre-cum and Aster whines into his kiss. 

In his hands is a phial of oil. He sits up between their thighs and grabs a cushion to place beneath their hips, then looks down at them. ‘You...I know you haven’t done this before, but you know the whole song and dance, right?’

‘I don’t know if I’d call it that, but yeah, I do,’ Aster says, trying and failing not to blush. 

Jacob smirks and slicks his fingers with oil, ‘Let’s see what you say after I make you sing.’ 

And then he’s inside them. Just barely, just the tip of a single finger, but even so Aster gasps at the sensation. It’s not  _ bad,  _ not at all, just strange. Different. 

Good. 

He slowly fucks it inside them, thrusting his finger in and out until their body stops resisting, lets him inside without feeling too tight. He slicks more oil onto his hand, adds another finger, begins again. There is a rhythm to it, they can admit, a sort of dance. The way he fucks them slow and short at first then deeper, then by twisting his fingers, then by scissoring them out to spread them open around them. By the time he has a third finger inside them they’re moaning openly, head pressed into the sheets to smother the sound as they shake around him. 

He fucks them with his fingers for a long time. So long they think they could cum from that alone, that he’s going to let them cum before letting them have his cock. But no, he takes them out, and leans down to kiss the centre of their chest. 

‘You should roll on your front, it’ll make it easier,’ he says gently as his hands knead and squeeze their thighs. 

‘But I want to see you.’

Jacob pauses, considering. ‘You could ride me. That gives you some more control over how much you take, too.’

They’re going to take it all, does he not get that yet? 

‘That sounds good,’ they say instead. 

Jacob lays back against the pillows, rearranging them so he can lay half-propped up. He spreads his legs and Aster stares with open, desperate want at the way his aching cock leaks. He’s going to fuck them with that. All of it. Every fat, thick inch. And they’re going to make him cum, and he’s - alright, enough. If they sit here staring nothing will happen. 

They move up the bed to straddle his waist. Jacob has his hands on their hips, holding them gently, keeping them steady. But he doesn’t push them, doesn’t try to make them move. He just looks up at them with a little smile and waits. 

The way he looks at them makes their heat thud treacherously in their chest. 

Aster pushes past the feeling and takes his cock in their hand. Slowly, then sink themself down onto it. And gods, he took his time with his fingers, but it wasn’t as much as his cock. Aster whines and shakes as they slowly lower themself down onto it; as he fills them up, stretches them out, slides inside them until it feels like they can’t take another inch. But they do, and then another, until every inch is pressed inside them stretching them out and open and making them gasp. 

‘You okay?’ he asks. His voice is strained.

‘Yes,’ Aster pants. ‘You feel so good. So big. I’m so full.’

‘You’re so tight,’ Jacob whispers. ‘You feel so good, so fucking good. You’re amazing, Aster.’

Aster looks down at him, at the blissed out, dazed smile he gives them in return. He looks like he means it. They have no reason to doubt, not given their current position. 

Rather than reply, they just move their hips in a very slow circle. His cock shifting inside them makes their own twitch and they place one hand on his stomach to hold him, to anchor themself in place. And then they start to move.

Just shallow thrusts at first, rising slightly up and down onto his cock, then harder, letting more of him slip out before thrusting down to take it back in. Every time his cock rocks inside them it makes their toes curl, it feels as if he can’t get deeper and then suddenly seems as if he is. Jacob holds their hips, starting to move them now, encouraging them to roll their hips in circles as they thrust up and down.

They know they won’t last long. He teased them for too long with his mouth and fingers before, and his cock is so impossibly good on top of that they can feel pleasure shaking through their thighs. But they hold tight to the swell of his stomach and grit their teeth and make themself last longer because they want to keep him inside them, want to see him come undone. 

Beneath them, Jacob is moaning, his hips rising to meet each of their downward thrusts. He’s beautiful anyway, but blissed out like this with his body moving and rippling with his thrusts he’s gorgeous, wonderful, everything they’ve ever wanted. 

He looks up at them and squeezes their hips, holding them still as he fucks up into them. Aster tips their head back on a moan as he fucks them wet and open, as he buries himself inside them again and again. 

They cum like that with Jacob holding them and fucking them hard. Their cock twitches and his hand is there to pump them that final step towards pleasure, to tug them over the threshold and make them spill hot and heavy over his hand. Aster whines his name as he does, squeezes their hand tight over his stomach and their cock twitches and spasms with their orgasm. 

‘Don’t stop,’ they whisper, even as their thighs shake with the exertion of it. ‘Fuck me, I want you to cum inside me, please.’

He does. He adjusts his position so he’s sitting up a little further and then begins to jerk his hips again, thrusting up and up into them harder and harder. They watch in bliss as his thighs tremble, as his breathing turns tight and heavy. He squeezes their hips when he reaches pleasure, and says their name on one long sigh. 

The feeling of his cock pulsing and twitching inside them makes Aster moan again. They wish they weren’t stuck with the limits of their body, that they could go again, but. They are. 

So instead Aster just collapses down on top of him, pressing their face into the curve of his neck. Their breathing is hard, their chest straining around it, their legs trembling. But it felt so good - still feels so good, to be so open, so full of him.

Jacob gently rolls them over and slides his cock out. Aster pouts at the sudden feeling of being so empty. 

‘I had a really nice time,’ Jacob says, kissing their forehead. ‘Do you want to stay?’

‘Honestly, I don’t think you could get me to leave if you wanted to. My legs wouldn’t carry me.’

Jacob laughs. He wraps his arms around them and pulls them in, cuddling them against the warmth of his chest. ‘Well, good. Cause I don’t want you to leave.’

They curl against him, winding their arms around him, tangling their legs together. He’s so warm and soft and good, an absent part of them whispers they could stay here forever. 

Aster cuddles close to him. He’s so soft. So comfortable. With their head pressed against his chest they hum happily against his shoulder as he pulls the blankets up around them, and like that, they slip into sleep.

***

They wake in the dark with a warm body pressed against their spine. Aster fumbles themself towards consciousness, until they’re awake enough to stop being confused by the unfamiliar surroundings and remember: Jacob. They went home with Jacob. They’re still in Jacob’s home, in his bed.

Which is fine except that in the dark of the middle of the night they realise something with awful clarity; Larn. They were supposed to tail him as Vega, see if their presence in the bar caused him to act stupidly so they could strike. 

Aster looks down at Jacob who’s curled on his side, his face a picture of bliss in sleep. It would be much nicer to just lay down and snuggle up next to him again, to let night slip into day, to forget all about it. Tell Soleil they’re going to go tomorrow. 

Fuck, that really isn’t an option. 

Slowly, they climb out of bed. They creep to the bathroom. They slide the catsuit back on, yank their hair up into a ponytail. And they steal into the night, after Larn, after their assignment, like they always have to do. It was nice while it lasted, at least. 

***

Larn is dead. 

Aster arrives back in Jacob’s house, still bloody, still trembling. They made sure to clean their boots at least, to make sure they couldn’t track prints in. They hadn’t intended to kill him tonight, and certainly not as messily. Messy attracts attention, messy leaves a trail. 

They hadn’t meant to come back here, either. They had been walking towards the docks, towards the Bellamy castle, and then suddenly they’d been turning and now they’re here. 

It’s good though, isn’t it? Jacob can be an alibi, if anything  _ does  _ point in their direction. 

Also, on the way home they’d thought of what it would be like for him to wake up alone. They hadn’t wanted that. 

Aster takes the stairs slowly, treading carefully for unsteady floorboards. In the bedroom Jacob is laying on his back, the sheets sitting low around his hips. Aster gives themself only a moment to stare before they turn and dash into the bathroom. 

They scrub off the last of the blood, rinse it all away, then peel out of the catsuit again and shove it beneath the sink. They really need him not to find it now, covered in blood as it is. 

In the mirror they turn and do one last check over for any signs. They’re clean; save for the marks Jacob left on their throat earlier. They want those to stay forever. 

Aster pushes open the door and creeps back into bed. They curl up on their side and then, carefully, reach for Jacob. 

He wakes with a startled grunt. 

Shit. Their hands. They’re freezing from the water, of course, gods they’re an idiot. 

‘Sorry!’ Aster says. ‘I went to the bathroom. Forgot my hands would be cold.’

Jacob blinks himself awake enough to obviously register who they are. And then he smiles, and it’s small, and soft, and devastating. Aster can’t help their own smile, or the way their cheeks heat up. 

‘Since it’s you I think I can forgive you,’ he mumbles and kisses them softly. 

‘Careful, I’ll remember that,’ Aster says. They tangle their bodies together again and Aster sighs in quiet delight at the way the heat of him presses against them. 

‘Be sure you do.’

In the quiet and the dark with him it’s easy to feel bold, to feel like they’re the sort of person who does this all the time, ‘Do you want to get breakfast in the morning?’

Jacob pauses. Only for a second, but it’s enough. 

‘Or I can go, sorry, I don’t want to-’

‘I’d love to.'

And he’s kissing them, sweeping them up in his arms, rolling them onto his lap so they can feel his cock against their hip. And they don’t say it, but they press their reply into each kiss, each stroke of their fingers;  _ I would too.  _


End file.
